


don't you forget about me

by orphan_account



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Amnesia, F/F, Fix-It, Pre-Relationship, set after nancy's left high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t know where this will take her—them—but she doesn’t care. She has Barb back and she’s not letting her go this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't you forget about me

**Author's Note:**

> written for femslash ficlets' [sappho prompt table](http://femslashficlets.dreamwidth.org/15203.html). 
> 
> prompt #14: 'but me you have forgotten.'
> 
> this is basically a winter soldier au. word limit was 1000 so i couldn't write all i wanted to but if anyone's interested i might continue?? idk

Nancy doesn’t realize it’s her at first; she just sees her shaved head and thinks of El, thinks of the implications of the 011 on her arm, thinks she’s another government experiment.

She’s not wrong.

She’s knelt down with her back turned when she approaches her; she knows that she’ll spook her if she touches her, so she lets out a gentle, “Hey.”

The girl turns sharply, quickly, and jolts back when she sees her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Nancy mutters, keeping her voice soft and low. It’s only then, when the girl's turned and blinking up at her with deer-in-headlight eyes, that Nancy realizes who she is.

It’s like walking down the stairs at night and thinking there’s one more step when there’s not; the feeling of being thrown completely off balance, rendering you breathless and confused.

“Barb,” she gasps out, like she’s been punched in the gut, falling to her knees in front of her. “Barb!”

Barb scrambles back slightly and says, “Who the hell is Barb?”

“Barb,” Nancy repeats, desperation creeping into her voice, “It’s me, Nance. Nancy.”

Barb just stares at her, lost and silent, and Nancy wants to hug her, wants to hold her tight in her arms, make sure she’s real. She doesn’t, because Barb’s shaking. She’s shaking too, but she steels herself, pulls herself together even though it feels like she’s shaken apart.

“You don’t remember me,” she says, attempting to keep her voice steady. “But I’m your best friend, Nancy Wheeler. And you’re Barbara Holland.”

“Barbara Holland,” Barb echoes, absently.

“Yeah,” Nancy says; looking at her, she doesn’t look much like the Barbara Holland she knows. Her head is shaved, her lower face and neck scarred, and she’s only wearing a hospital gown; it reminds Nancy, distantly, of when she stole her glasses in sixth grade and then noticed how different she looked without them.

She has a hundred questions but she saves it for when Barb is—well, better, she supposes. Not shivering, not scared. Okay.

“I’m going to take you back to my apartment, okay?” she says; she doesn’t know how she’s so calm, but she figures one of them has to be. When Barb only stares, apprehensive, she says, “You can trust me. I promise,” and offers her a hand.

She takes it.

 +

She heats up some leftovers while Barb takes a shower, the bathroom door slightly open so Nancy can listen out for her; she leaves some pajamas outside for her. Wherever she had been, they hadn’t fed her well, so when Barb comes out into the kitchen, she sees how the clothes hang off her.

Barb eats like she expects it to be taken away from her. Nancy waits until she’s finished to speak.

“You died,” she says, because skirting around it feels dishonest. “Can you remember?”

“No,” Barb murmurs, “but they told me. They told me I died so I could become stronger.”

Nancy doesn’t ask who they are, because she knows they’re the same people who had El.

“Are you running from them?”

“Yes,” Barb says. “They made me do— things. I didn’t want to do.”

It’s tempting to ask _like what?_ , but Barb’s beginning to look nervous and trapped, so she decides against it. She figures she’ll tell her if she wants to.

“You should get some rest,” Nancy says. “I’ll take the couch.”

“No,” Barb snaps and it’s the loudest she’s been so far.

“Hey, no, I insist—”

“Stay with me,” Barb interrupts, so quiet Nancy almost thinks she’s imagined it. “Please.”

Nancy looks at her, looks at her girl who’s been her best friend since she was seven, who she kissed when she was thirteen under the guise of ‘practicing’, who she lost all because some boy with a car got her starry-eyed. Nancy looks at her and says, “Okay.”

 +

Barb falls asleep before her. They lie next to each other, but the space between them feels never-ending. Nancy wants to get closer, to hold her. Instead, she stares at her back, fascinated by the way the street lamps shine through the gap in the curtains and makes the fuzz of her shaved hair glow.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, like she has to her grave so many times before.

 +

A crash jolts her awake; dread rushes through her when she sees no Barb beside her.

She runs towards the noise, frantic and terrified, to find Barb standing in the kitchen, three bodies dead at her feet. She sees the blood and ignores it, instead tugging Barb into a hug.

“They came for me,” she says, muffled into her shoulder. “To take me away.”

“I won’t let them,” Nancy says and she doesn’t realize until she says it how much she means it. She’d kill to keep Barb safe and with her.

Barb snorts abruptly. “That so, sleeping beauty.”

She sounds so much like herself,sardonic and wry and _Barb,_ that it knocks Nancy breathless for a moment.

“Shut up,” she mutters fondly. “I came rushing to your aid, didn’t I?”

“Oh yes,” Barb says, “my hero.”

She turns serious when she break apart.

“I need to leave,” she says. “I can’t stay here, they’ll find me.”

“Then we better start packing,” Nancy says, cheerier than she feels. “We always wanted to go on a roadtrip.”

“Nancy,” Barb says, like she used to when she didn’t want to be harsh but she disagreed with her. Two long syllables, _Nanc_ - _ee_. “You can’t just— drop everything for me.”

“I can and I will,” Nancy says, flippant. Barb raises her eyebrows; Nancy raises hers back.

“Fine,” she says, exasperated, but Nancy hears a smile in her voice. 

They’re quick about it; they’re in Nancy’s car by dawn, clothes and weapons and money packed. She’ll find a payphone to call her parents, tell them she’s taken a spontaneous trip.

She doesn’t know where this will take her—them—but she doesn’t care. She has Barb back and she’s not letting her go this time.

**Author's Note:**

> poeantilles @ tumblr


End file.
